Pencil Predicament
by eak60
Summary: Someone has been stealing all the pencils in some school that I forgot to name... *facepalm* ANYWAY, Wesley Cunningham is on the case! This was actually a writing assignment for english class, but screw it! I'm uploading it anyway! Uses same characters from my minecraft fic Blocks of War. Oneshot.


**Salutations, my loyal viewers, eak60 is back and FINALLY doing something fanfiction related! Well… sort of. I actually wrote this for English class, but I used the three main protagonists from my fanfiction Blocks of War, so I decided to upload this! I probably wouldn't have… but my computer kind of died, so I haven't gotten a chance to write anything in a while. I hope this holds you over, even though it probably shouldn't be on this website, because it has nothing to do with any fiction that already exists… but you know what? This site can SUCK MY LEMONGRAB! Anyway, I can't update BoW anytime soon, due to my lack of working computers, so just hang in there! I love you all (No, not **_**that**_** way, all you pervs), and I am honestly VERY sorry that I can't satisfy you all with the writing you for some reason seem to like so much. Okay, I've spent WAY too much time on this Author's note, so READ THE FUCKING STORY ALREADY! **

**Pencil Predicament**

"Okay, the bell rang, time to shut up," Mr. Chizloonski said in his horrendous monotone voice. "Get out your textbooks and read chapter 13 while I do a crossword. If you need me… don't need me."

Kids started getting up all across the classroom, scrambling to get a seat next to their friends. I was no different, moving past three rows of desks from my desk at the far left of the room to a table near the back; the designated meeting place of my friend and me. Jordan was at the table and already doing something weird. He had the hood of his grey sweatshirt up, and he was rubbing his hands together like an evil villain.

"Hello, Mr. Cunningham," he said in a creepy voice, "I've been waiting."

I pulled the strings on his sweatshirt and the hood tightened around his head. "Well wait no longer, Sir Creeps-a lot, I'm here and I brought my good looks with me!"

"Really, because I sure don't see them anywhere around here. . ." Jordan pulled the hood off of his face, causing his usually straight auburn hair to tangle itself in a hopeless mess.

"Look who's talking, helmet hair!" I reached a hand across the chest high table and gave his scalp a good ruffle.

"Shut up," he said, pulling out his textbook.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" I placed my hand on his arm, restricting it from any further movement. "What are you doing?!"

"Reading the assignment…" he said, shaking his arm free of my grasp.

"Why?" Nobody ever does any work in History class, so I no reason to change that today.

"To learn things," he said like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Whatever, suit yourself." I reached for my binder and pulled out a piece of scrap paper to doodle on. My hand made its way to my pencil case, but it soon discovered that it was empty. I decided to go with the easiest option- hitting Jordan up. "Hey, do you have a pencil I can use?"

"Yeah, hold on." Jordan reached for his own binder and pulled out a new looking box of pencils, but a quick flip of the lid showed that it was in fact empty. "What the heck?!" he steamed. "I just got this yesterday; how is it already gone?!"

As Jordan continued his rant, Mr. Chizloonski got up from his desk to the left of the door. "Alright, who's the dirty weasel that took my pencils?!" The class just stared back at him.

"Come on, I know one of you brats took them!" He started walking around the rectangular classroom, stroking his thin-stache (which ironically looked a lot like Hitler's) while he passed posters ranging from topics of ancient Egypt to "The teacher is always right!"

"Fine, if none of you maggots want to fess up, then I guess I'll have to hold you after class!" The class let out a huge groan at that statement. "Hey!" our turd of a teacher shouted at us. "If I don't get to be happy, then nobody gets to be happy. That's how the world works; get used to it!" I put on a depressed face as the bell rang, not being able to rush past the multiple rows of desks that separated me and the door.

Thanks to the best teacher in the world, we were late for lunch. Jordan and I made our way through the line very slowly, trailing at the end. We paced the whole perimeter of the lunchroom before ending up at the food counter located on the back wall. By that time, all of the good stuff was taken, leaving Jordan and I to indulge on today's mystery meat. We each took a seat in the sea of folding tables that had invaded our cafeteria, and immediately stated getting yelled at by an annoying blonde.

"Where the heck were you guys?!" she shouted at us. "Without you two doorknobs, I'm stuck with all these freaks and weirdoes!"  
I took a good look around the classroom and took a definite note of the diverse amalgamation of students our school had to offer. "Sorry, Taylor, Loonski decided to keep after today, something about missing pencils," I responded.

"You know what, I haven't picked up a pencil all day," she said in between bites of her turkey sandwich.

"That explains a lot!" That remark won me a pop in the arm.

"But seriously, where are all the pencils going?" Jordan mused curiously.

"I don't know… but we're about to find out!" I must have acquired my trademark I-have-a-plan-and-you're-going-to-help grin on my face, because Jordan backed away in terror as soon as I said that.

"Oh, no! I am not getting dragged into another one of your schemes!" Jordan was keeping his distance from me already, hiding behind his math book at the other side of the table.

"Come on, won't it be fun?" I advanced towards him as one might do to a rabid beaver. "Interviewing suspects, collecting clues, investigating crime scenes?"

"Wesley, I know that somehow something in all of this is going to go horribly wrong, and I do NOT want to be involved when it does!"

"Dude, all we're doing is finding a couple boxes of pencils. Does that sound dangerous to you?"

It took Jordan a while to answer. "I can't believe I let myself get dragged into so much crap."

"Great!" I jumped up from the table and looked at Taylor. "You in?"

"I guess. . ." she moaned. "I've got nothing better to do. GOD, my life is sad!"

"Awesome! Team Cunningham is on the case! To the Batcave!" I ran off with my finger pointing in a random direction.

"But we don't have a Batcave!" Jordan shouted.

"Then to the library!" I ran in a different direction.

"Kill me now," Taylor said, following me to our "headquarters".

"Tell me about it!" Jordan wasn't far behind.

"Alright, here's the game plan." I had drawn up a bunch of facts and data on a chalkboard, the layout for the investigation that we would soon undergo. My friends and I were sitting in the middle of the school's library, rows and rows of books extending out all around us. We were currently situated in a clearing at the back left corner, a little hideaway with a wooden table and a couple of chairs.

I was standing next to my chalkboard, ruler in hand, while my colleagues sat at the table looking anything _but_ eager to learn.

"Okay," I started, "I've come up with three suspects, all of whom would have an incentive to steal the pencils. First, we have Leroy Jenkins."

"You mean that geek with the chewing addiction?" Taylor queried.

"Exactly," I said. "He is always chewing on pencils, so if he ever ran out, then he would need to get some more!"

"Ah, I see," Jordan mused. "So you think he stole all the pencils to satisfy his craving!"

"Possibly. We still have two other suspects." I pointed to a spot towards the right of the chalkboard with my yardstick. "Suspect two; Pierre D' Snud."

"Oh my god, I HATE that guy! He's always spitting on my stuff in art class, and he never thinks about anyone but himself!" Taylor was practically steaming already.

"Yeah, and if he only cares about himself, then he would have no problem stealing the pencils!"

"Great, now are we done here?" Jordan asked.

"We still have one more suspect!" I struck the chalkboard with my yardstick again. "None other than Mr. Chizloonski himself!"

"Oh, come on!" Taylor protested. "You're just saying that because you hate his guts!"

"True, true," I said, "but think about it! Loonski is always complaining about how he never has any pencils to do his stupid crosswords! With his complete and utter hatred for children, he is the perfect culprit!

"Oh, fine," Taylor said. "Is that it?"

"One more thing," I said, "we start interviewing tomorrow. Other than that, you are free to go!"

"THANK GOD!" Jordan started sprinting past the brown plaster walls as those words escaped my lips. Taylor and I followed suit, but in a more civilized manner, and soon enough we were out the door.

The next day, we all met up before school. Leroy Jenkins was hanging around his locker, at the beginning of a long hallway that served as the freshmen's headquarters. This would be a perfect time to interview him! Our group advanced across the white tile floor, approaching suspect number one.

"Hey, Leroy," I said to the boy staring inside his backpack.

He looked up at me wide-eyed. "P-people? Talking to . . . me?" he said in a hushed voice. "Okay, Jenkins, don't screw this up!"

"Is he . . . talking to himself?" Taylor whispered.

"Yeah, he does that. Just try to ignore it," Jordan replied.

"H-hello, social comrades," he greeted, straightening his button-down shirt and kakis.

"Yeah . . ." I said, realizing just how geeky this guy really was. "Anyway, I hear you like to chew on stuff."

"So?" he said, trying to casually pull a piece of plastic out of his mouth.

"So, I hear there have been a bunch of pencils disappearing lately. You wouldn't have anything to do with that, would you?"

I heard him mutter something along the lines of "I knew this was too good to be true". "Sorry, I haven't gotten my hands on a pencil in days! It's driving me insane!"

"Oh, really," I said, "I couldn't even tell!"

"Was that a hint of sarcasm I detected? If it was, then shame on you! If it wasn't, then thanks!"

"Alright, kid, enough talk. We're going to have to search your locker," Jordan said.

"Absolutely not! That's an invasion of privacy!" Leroy stood firmly in front of his white locker, identical to the dozens of others that covered the walls of the narrow hallway.

"What did you say?" Taylor now had her fist in front of Leroy's face.

"Uh . . . I said go right in!" Leroy said, backing away from the newfound "muscle" of the group.

"That's what I thought," Taylor said, and she put her fist down.

We all took a peek inside our suspect's locker, but to no avail. All that was inside was a backpack filled with strips of plastic.

"Boy, you sure like plastic, don't you?" I teased.

"Oh, that . . . that's for a . . . a science project! Yeah, a science project! I _totally_ don't chew on that as a substitute for pencils or anything! Heh, heh . . ."

"Right . . ." I said, completely wierded out. "Well, that will be all. Thank you for your time!"

"Keep it fresh, home dogs!" he replied while making a "peace" sign with his fingers.

"MAN, that guy is a nerd!" Jordan whispered when we got a good distance away from him.

"I heard that!" he shouted back at us.

"RUN!" I commanded, and we all took off.

"Well, that sure didn't work!" Taylor said. We were outside the art room, preparing to interview our next suspect: Pierre D' Snud.

"Yeah, but we still have two more interviews to go!" I said. "Don't get all pessimistic on me now, guys; we need all the energy we can get if we want to solve this case!"  
"Who are you calling pessimistic?!" Taylor had her fist raised above her head.

"Calm down, guys!" Jordan said. "Let's just get this over with so we can put this whole thing behind us!"

"Alright," I said, and I opened the door.

The art room was what you might call "over decorated". Drawings and paintings covered the walls, leaving no open space for anything else. Dozens of mobiles hung from the ceiling, and a sea of canvases littered the floor. At the center of the room were a group of evenly spaced tables, and at the one closest to the door sat our suspect.

"Vut do you peasants vant?" he said in his heavy French accent, not bothering to look up from the paper he was scribbling on with a pen.

"Um . . . we were wondering if we could interview you," Jordan replied.

He looked up from his project with an annoyed face. "Fine, but make it quick."

"All we need to know is if you've seen and/or used and pencils lately," I said.

"Doez it look like I have any pencils?!" he shouted, holding up his pen. "I've had to use zis stupid pen all veek! Venever I make a mistake, I have to start all over! It's driving me inzane!"

"And you're sure there are no pencils in the art room?" Jordan asked.

"Vut did I just say?! Don't you zink zat if zere vere any pencils here I vould use zem?! Imbeciles."

"What did you just say?!" Taylor said, holding up her fist.

"I said imbeciles!" Pierre shot back. "Now get out of my sight; I have better zings to do zan play 20 questions vith you!"

"Get over here, you little maggot!" Taylor tried to charge toward Pierre, but Jordan and I managed to hold her back.

"Calm down!" I told her. But she didn't listen. She just exchanged a few choice words with Pierre as we dragged her out of the room.

After the final bell rang, our group high-tailed it over to Mr. Chizloonski's room before he could get a chance to leave.

"What do you brats want?" he moaned.

"Sit down, Loonski, we need to talk!" I grabbed a chair and took a seat next to his desk, located to the very left of the door.

"I don't have to take orders from you kids! I'm the teacher here!" he shouted at us.

"Mr. Chizloonski, we just want to know if you've seen any pencils lately," Jordan calmly stated.

"Of course I haven't! This school has been in a pencil shortage for days now!"

"Exactly!" I said, "So, where are you hiding them?!" I got up and started opening cabinets and searching folders, but Loonski got a hold of me.

"What do you think you're doing, Cunningham?! You think I stole them?!"

"Yes, now hand them over before we call the cops!"

"WESLEY! CALM DOWN, YOU DOORKNOB!" Taylor managed to get a hold of me and followed up with a good slap to the face.

"Look, Mr. C, can we just look in a few of your cabinets? I promise our friend here will have nothing to do with it." Jordan can get really uptight sometimes.

"Fine, just don't move anything around! I don't need to spend my crossword time cleaning up after you kids!"

"Will do," Jordan said, and he started searching.

After the search, we managed to draw up yet another blank. Typical. Loonski yelled something about not coming back as were walking out the door, and we left.

"Well, looks like we're out of suspects!" Taylor said as we entered our usual library meeting spot.

"Yeah, but we can't give up yet! We _will _solve this case!" I said with devotion.

"Actually, I think we have another lead," Jordan said as he pulled out a folded piece of paper. "I found this baby outside Loonski's door!"

I unfolded the note, revealing its contents. It read:

_I got the stuff, but let me tell you, it wasn't easy. Pierre's going to take off when he sees this. Next meeting is here at 6:00 tomorrow._

_ -L.J._

"Wow," I said. "Nice job, Jordan, you just found us out breakthrough!"

"Hold on a second, let me see this," Taylor said, taking the note. She took a moment to read it, then handed it back to me. "so all three of our suspects are in on this together?" she asked.

"Looks like it," Jordan said.

"Yeah," I replied, "L.J. is probably Leroy Jenkins. This was left outside Loonski's room, so it's obvious that he's in on this, and they mentioned Pierre's name in the note!"

"Alright, but what exactly are they doing?" Taylor asked.

"Well, it says here that Leroy got the stuff and it wasn't easy. That probably means that he stole something, and the fact that it says Pierre is going to take off when he sees it leads me to believe that they are talking about pencils," I explained.

"Aren't we jumping to conclusions a little too fast here?" Taylor said.

"Yeah, but it's the only lead we have!" I replied.

"Wesley's right. We don't have much information, so we have to take what we can get," Jordan said.

"Alright, fine." Taylor rolled her eyes.

"Great! Everyone meet at Loonski's room tomorrow at 5:45!" I exclaimed, and we all dispersed.

We all arrived on time, and luckily nobody was there yet. We were hiding in the far right corner of Mr. Chizloonski's room, crouching behind a bookshelf filled with textbooks. We had been waiting for 15 minutes, so Jordan, being the nerd that he is, had picked one out and stated reading about Ancient Egypt.

"Hey," he said, "Did you know that the Egyptian sword the _khopesh_ has a hook-shaped blade designed for disarming the enemy?"

"Nobody cares, doorknob!" Taylor shouted.

"Shh, they're coming!" I said, the sound of footsteps entering my ears. We all went silent.

The door made a clanking sound as somebody stuck a key to it and turned the knob. Pierre, Leroy, and Mr. Chizloonski stepped into the room with a closed box; just as we suspected.

"Aha!" I exclaimed, jumping up from out hiding spot. "We've caught you red-handed!"

"What are you doing in my classroom?!" Mr. Chizloonski barked.

"Solving this case! Now hand over the pencils, thieves!"

"I told you, ve don't have any pencils, and don't call me a zief again if you vant to continue living!" Pierre shouted.

"If you don't have any pencils, then explain this!" Jordan said, pulling out the note and giving it to Leroy.

"Well, in this note I explained to Mr. Chizloonski that it wasn't easy getting the stuff, that Pierre is going to be excited when he sees it, and when the next meeting is," he said.

"I know that," Jordan said, "But what exactly is this _stuff_?

"The _stuff_ referred to in the note would be an expensive paint set," Leroy answered.

"So that paint set is in that box?" I asked.

"Sure is," Leroy said, showing us the contents of the box. "Take a good look now, because these are about as hard to find as a unicorn!"

"Well if there is only paint in that box, then what are you all doing here?" Taylor asked.

"Zis is za yearbook committee!" Pierre said. "I vas going to use zat paint set to design ze cover!"

"So you guys don't have any pencils?" I asked.

"No, we don't! Now get out of my classroom!" Mr. Chizloonski shooed us out the door.

"Aw, man!" Jordan said. "Back to square one!"

"Wait- hold on a second!" Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a small, furry mammal carrying something with its front paws. "What's that?"

"It looks like a chipmunk carrying . . . a pencil!" Taylor exclaimed.

We all scrambled to follow it, and found that it was taking the pencil outside. It dragged the pencil to a tree, then disappeared underground.

"Follow that chipmunk!" I yelled, and our group ran to the hole. Jordan started to dig it up, and soon enough he had found a stash filled with dozens of pencils!

"Well, looks like we've found ourselves our thief!" Taylor said, motioning to the chipmunk that was screeching at us for digging up its home.

"Yeah, we better get these back to school!" Jordan said, starting to collect the pencils.

Before I could help him, a kid ran up to me. "Hey," he said, "have you seen any notebooks around here? I think somebody's been stealing mine!"

I put on my signature grin again. "So, Jordan . . . Taylor. . ."

"Oh, no!" Jordan said.

"Here we go again!" moaned Taylor.

**FIN**

**Yeah, Fin. Got a problem with it? Well, take it up with Jake, I'm busy. Heh heh… bad joke. Anyway, hope you guys like it, and once again, I'm sorry I can't update BoW, blame my mom for buying a crappy computer. And, if you haven't read my other works, go do that NOW, because I said so :3 Anyway, hug a moose, eat a banana, shove a potato up your ear, and GET THE HELL OUT OF THIS 7****TH**** GRADE WRITING ASSIGNMENT!**


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